Reality is a state of mind. To the banker, the money in his ledger book is all very real, though he doesn't actually see it or touch it. But to the Brahma, it simply doesn't exist the way the air and the earth, pain and loss do. To him, the banker's reality is folly. To the banker, the Brahma's ideas are as inconsequential as dust.
Libba BrayHarold Brodie is a louse and a lothario who cheats at cards and has a different girl in his rumble seat every week. That coupe of his is pos-i-tute-ly a petting palace. And heโs a terrible kisser to boot.โ Evieโs parents stared in stunned silence. โOr so Iโve heard.
Libba BrayClothing left on the bed unfolded. Books stained with coffee spots. Tabs not paid until the last possible second. Boys kissed and then forgotten in a weekโs time.
Libba BrayI run after her, not really giving chase. Iโm running because I can, because I must. Because I want to see how far I can go before I have to stop.
Libba Bray